


He Looks Both Before and After

by furloughday



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF
Genre: England (Country), Gen, Prime Minister, tree-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furloughday/pseuds/furloughday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From 1852 to 1895, people took pilgrimages to a tree-cutting by past-PM Gladstone and his son. Gladstone proves his virility and becomes Prime Minister once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Looks Both Before and After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polishmyarmor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polishmyarmor/gifts).



> Please note that this is only loosely historically accurate. For full details, read a history book. I do hope, though, that the love that Gladstone bore for his fellow countrymen and his family shine through here, as well as his near-obsession with the Bard, Homer.

On a characteristically brisk day on the rolling hills of the English countryside, was a copse of trees, and, within this copse, many a citizen of England. Clouds were mere wisps far overhead, the mood was sharp and pleasant. They were there gathered to witness the felling of trees by the retired PM Gladstone, and son of same.

Sport ready to begin, the axes were hefted, grips adjusted. Gladstone and son, in shirtsleeves, swung at trees of various height and girth, but with similar heartiness of trunk. The onlookers soon became awed at the swiftness with which the two men made notable headway.

"Why, Gladstone must be four inches in, without breaking a sweat!" Remarked one onlooker.

"It's six, or by golly I shall eat my bowler!" And said bowler was doffed with gusto.

Picnic blankets were soon lain for the onlookers to take a rest. This idyllic tableau contrasted with the steadfast chopping of twin trees (fraternal), by father and son, and the mens' cigars were lit perfunctorily, and the womens' skirts pooled beautifully. Apples fell from one of the trees with thumps like so much hail.

Those assembled remarked on Gladstone, impressed with the man.

"How he stands short, with a large head, but he is spare, fit, and sprightly," said one.

Gladstone had other physical flaws that were made up for. He was missing a finger that he shot off, but he had a fakey, for instance, and he was going on in years, but was strong of spirit. His son remarked upon this:

"Father," said Gladstone Junior, when he was finally pressed to take a handkerchief to his damp brow. "I learn from you in every act."

Gladstone's swinging of the axe did not slow nor speed, as he asked, "What have you learned, my boy?"

Son said, "I must use my knees to drive the blade into this tree, that I may make the deepest cut; one makes the greatest impression with consistency and assuredness."

"Full steam ahead," cried an onlooker!

"And what is more," continued Junior. "I have learned that a liberal man may be quite moderate of word that he may save his breath."

"Best learn from that!" said a woman.

"That brings to mind a quote from the great Homer," Gladstone said. His son leant against his axe momentarily, ready for a wordy declaiming of his father's favorite Greek. " _A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth - and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases._ "

The crowd murmured in appreciation. Gladstone was a man who could put no foot wrong, and this extended to the literary realm.

The air was cool. When just over an hour had passed, Gladstone, the elder, cried, "Timber!" and with signs of the same foresight he had used to lead the great country of England in the past, it became clear to all picnicers that he had foreseen which direction to chop the tree that it might not land on a single onlooker, not a one.

They were all right pleased that the pilgrimage to the tree-cutting which had lasted from 1852 to 1891 had gone off without a hitch, trees being felled and tea taken in nature. The trip had not been a waste, not in the slightest. In carriage rides back to town, it was agreed upon that what Gladstone had lost in youth, he more than made up for in virility, and many expressed a desire that he should resecure his position and become Prime Minister once more.

And so he did. And so he was.

And it was good.


End file.
